


Amortentia

by Albion19



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love Potion/Spell, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albion19/pseuds/Albion19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy finds a love potion and uses it to her advantage...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amortentia

She slides her fingers down the thin neck of the bottle and watches as the purple liquid inside oscillates. She is helping Tink look for poppy seeds, which aids sleep, which has in turn progressed into a perusal of the numerous bottles of potions that the fallen fairy has accumulated over the years.

“What is it?”

“Oh that’s a love potion,” she explains after a brief glance and then goes back to rummaging through a trunk. “It doesn’t work, one of the ingredients is pixie dust and well, you know…”

“Yes I know,” Wendy sighs and lowers the spindly bottle into her lap. On her knees she stares out of Tink’s treehouse that shows a spectacular view of the misty canopy. Once pixie dust made the top of the trees sparkle like emerald fire but that had been years ago and Wendy had never seen it. Sometimes she wishes that she could stay up here forever but he would not allow that. Peter covets her presence as much as he enjoys toying with her affection and he can only do that when she is close by. Once she had been utterly beguiled by him, believing with her entire heart that he loved her as much as she did but she had been terribly wrong. Now with a bruised and aching heart she toys with a flittering idea like a cat with a feather, not wanting to catch it. She scrapes her fingernail along the dusty glass, lost in thought and Tink catches her wistful expression and laughs.

“Oh darling don’t even think about it. Even if it did work it wouldn’t give you what you want. No magic can produce true love, only its shadowy cousin: obsession, adoration and lust…but it’s hollow and it never lasts,” her gaze loses focus and Wendy wonders not for the first time what the fairy has experienced in her long life.

“If that’s the case why do you have it?”

“Not everyone is looking for love girl,” she answers with a wink and Wendy looks down with a knowing smile. Once she would have blushed and giggled but she is not the naïve, unguarded girl who flew to the island and offered her heart to a loveless boy only for him to let it fall to the ground with a laugh. She has been here for some time now and in that time she has grown shrewd and emotionally reserved. Peter never does anything unless it benefits him in some way and to let her go again does not benefit him. He may not love her but he is very clear that no one else can claim her affections or body. If she could just soften his black heart a little, find a way to make him sympathise with her than maybe he will release her brothers. She has no illusions about leaving herself but if she can do anything to lessen the burden on John and Michael she will.

Wendy slips the love potion into her basket as Tink finds the packet of poppy seeds and hands them over to her. If she notices that Wendy takes the potion she does not say. Possibly she believes that nothing will come of it but she should know better than anyone how prevailing the power of belief can be.

* * *

 

The poppy seeds are not for Wendy, who has no trouble sleeping because in dreams she is free. It is the opposite for Peter who is hounded by terrible nightmares. He has never shared what they are about and Wendy suspects that he has no clear idea himself but whatever they are he does everything in his power to avoid sleeping. In Neverland time stands still and so Peter can go weeks without sleep until all the nightmares that have been stored up in his head seep out like smoke and haunt his waking hours. Wendy has seen this happen once and it is something she will never forget: Peter curled up at the base of a tree screaming in rage and fear. She had touched his head and he had rounded on her and she thought he would attack but he gazed at her like she was there to save him from drowning. He had clung to her all the way back to his hollow tree and she had slept beside him throughout the night. It was the first time she had shared his bed without him sweet talking her into it first. The next morning he had acted as if nothing had happened and from then on he continued to do the same.

She grinds the seeds up with a mortar and pestle until a fine glittering red dust appears. Behind her Peter paces up and down like a caged animal, wired and hypersensitive. He hates to be taken care of because then he would have to admit that he is not all powerful but he needs Wendy to make the poppy sleeping draught work. Like all magic in Neverland it must be fuelled by belief and she is the only one who can still produce it.

“You’re running out,” she says quietly as she picks up the cup and pours the liquid into it.

“I’ll get one of the OZ contacts to pick some more. Finished?” he asks irritably and she turns, the cup of milk between her hands. She smiles briefly and then lets it fall as she concentrates on the cup. Sometimes if her belief is not strong enough the sleeping draught does not work, which is one of the reasons he allows her to sleep beside him. It is shameful to admit but she looks forward to these times, not only to demonstrate the power she has but sometimes as she settles her head beside his and his hand rests on her back it feels as if her most secret desire is true.

“Drink it all…and think of me,” she adds and he cocks an eyebrow as he eyes the cup suspiciously before he smirks and downs the milk in two gulps. Once she had tried to poison him but nothing can kill Pan but his own feeble and dying heart. For her crime he had forced her into a wicker cage and only released her once she apologised. She could have been freed in a matter of seconds but Wendy is stubborn and it was a very long time before she relented. That night for the first time he had made love to her and she realised with a thrill that he had actually missed her. She has not seen the cage since.

“Think of you bird?”

“As you fall asleep,” she answers and takes the cup from him as he smiles in sleepy bemusement. As she turns her back she feels a flare of self-disgust for what she is about to do and in a rash moment she licks inside of the cup for the remaining milk. The love potion is undetectable but as she swallows she feels a billowing warmth emanating from her insides outwards.

Peter is sitting on the edge of his bed and as she comes to stand before him he smiles up at her sleepily. The elation she felt increases until she feels almost weightless and in her chest happiness bubbles. She hovers her fingers over his face before touching the corner of his smiling mouth.

“Why are you happy?” she asks in an almost accusing tone and he smirks.

“Do I need your permission? Anyway, I’m always happy,” this is true, there is hardly an hour that goes by that Peter does not have a wicked grin on his face. But the emotion curling his mouth and softening his eyes is not dark or cruel but quite the opposite. Or maybe that is what she wants to see, maybe he is really staring at her like a wolf. She has seen that look before and it always end with her on her back in the grass or against a tree but this means more than that. He will not take her like a conquest, not tonight.

“I – I love these moments,” she confesses softly as he draws her closer to him and she lets her hands play with his hair.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the only time I feel close to you. You’ll deny it but I believe you want these moments as much as I do,” she whispers with conviction and opens her heart again. The last time she had been so vulnerable with him he had rejected her and she had fled in tears but now her belief that some part of him cares for her relies on her believing it and making the love potion work. She cups his face and he sighs, pulling her even closer.

“I do,” he confesses and then blinks, confused at the admission. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes closed, as if to shake off the spell she had cast over him but her belief is too strong and he is helpless against it. For the first time in centuries his heart beats not with a thrum of wicked delight but deep, beguiling affection and Wendy can see it shining out from his green eyes. However the heart it emits from is dark and corrupt and everything that her belief powers is sprung from a possessive, intense and infatuated rivet.

Wendy lowers her mouth to his, teasing him with feather light touches before drawing back to stare into his gleaming eyes. His fingers dig into her sides and she knows he is restraining himself with everything he has. At any other time he would fling her onto the bed and take her but he seems entrapped by her gaze, unable to move and the look he gives her makes her heart burn with joy. The warning that Tink had imparted is as faint as smoke now and unimportant.

“If our life was like this I would stay with you forever.”

“But you will, you are. I won’t lose you,” he says and something dark flashes on his eyes.

“Why me?” she knows it could be because of her power but he could get anyone with enough belief to help him. He has gone out of his way to make her stay and she is the only one who warms his bed.

“Because you’re mine…I have waited so long for you,” he adds with a haunted expression and she cannot question it as he pulls her down to him and captures her lips at last.  Hair framing his face she straddles him, pulling her nightdress up around her hips as his fingers glide up her bare legs. She pulls his clothes off between kisses and in these moments he whispers all the secret longings he has harboured for her and it makes her ignite with love and lust.

“No one else?”

“Never,” he breathes against her cheek. “I knew you were coming, I always knew but I tried to ignore what you meant to me. I couldn’t let you stay in London, I couldn’t stand the thought that some other would take my place,” he confesses with a growl and her breath hitches. He roughly cups her face and stares intensely into her eyes. “No one else do you understand?”

“Yes,” she nods seriously as he gathers her up in his arms and falls back so she is on top of him. This is different, she has never been in this position before. He tugs up her nightdress and she pulls it off as he settles down, placing his hands on her bare hips and gazes up at her face. She rolls her hips, gently grinding herself on him and he tenses below her, his mouth parting as he grows hard with her gyrating movements. Wendy leans her head back and closes her eyes, focusing on her own pleasure but by the way he gasps and bucks below her she knows that her endeavours is giving him as much pleasure as she is getting. Groaning she leans forward and steadies herself with a hand against his chest, her movements hard and fast and his hands on her hips bruising.

“Please,” he pleads, the word bursting out of him and she sees another flash of confusion in his eyes. Peter has never begged for anything but now she has him in her mercy. Drawing her wet core back and forth along his length, teasing him with entry, she regards him fiercely.

“Promise me one thing?”

“What?” he pants, straining to be in her but she lifts herself off him.

“That whatever I wish for you’ll grant. I won’t leave you, I promise on everything I love,” she reasons as he begins to stare at her in calculation but then gasps as she sinks just a little of him inside her. His fingers flex on her skin, half wild with lust to think but he manages to speak.

“I promise!” he shouts and then moans as she lowers herself down around his cock. Strained to the point of snapping Peter grips her hips and slams up into her as she rides him with abandon. So aroused and teased he battles to stop himself coming but as she starts to buck and tighten around him he gives in and admits surrender. Milking the entire length of him Wendy shakes and screams soundlessly through her orgasm as he continues to thrust, spilling himself deep into her. She collapses on top of him, gasping for breath as his chest heaves below her cheek and she listens to the pounding of his heart until it slows.

“I love you,” she whispers as his lips brush her forehead.

“…I know,” he replies and though he does not say the words she takes what he has offered as a substitute. She kisses his shoulder as she lies beside him.

“You never break a promise do you?”

“Never…” he says sleepily and she watches as his eyes drift closed and he falls asleep. That night he thrashes beside her as he is tormented with nightmares and she holds him until they pass.

* * *

 

The next morning she wakes alone and sits up with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. The night before feels like a dream and she knows that for her own peace of mind that is what she will have to think of it as. She had got what she wanted, the one thing she has never been able to get before: a promise.

She finds him playing on his pipes, sat with his back against a tree. She stands before him as he continues to play, watching her every fidgeting movement. She cannot hear what he plays but she imagines it is something eerie. Clearing her throat she lifts her chin.

“You promised to grant me a wish.”

“Not even a good morning. You’re cold,” he admonishes but his eyes glitter with mischief. Wendy is not amused, there is something about him, something poised and taut.

“My promise,” she repeats and he sighs, lowering the pipes. He sits cross legged and leans off the tree trunk, eyeing her through narrowed lids.

“As enjoyable as last night was and as much as I would like to repeat it I know you did something. I’m not mad, I like it when you show your hand but you lied to me. My sleep was…disturbed,” he says with distaste, his mouth down turning. Wendy shrugs.

“I didn’t believe hard enough for the magic to work, it does happen.”

“You’re getting better at lying bird but you can’t fool me. Fine, let’s play along and pretend you couldn’t make it work. I did make a promise and I will grant what you want…for a price,” he finishes with a wicked smirk and Wendy feels her stomach tighten. This is her punishment for slipping the love position into his drink, he is toying with her.

“What price?”

“Tell me what you want and I’ll let you know,” he smiles, clearly enjoying the game. Wendy purses her mouth, knowing that whatever she wishes for he will twist it into something she does not want. But she has to try.

“Free my brothers from your servitude.”

“Which one?” he asks immediately and Wendy gapes.

“What? All of them!”

“Pick one: John, Michael…or Bae?” Peter grins at her dilemma and she finds the sight more than she can bare. She rips the pipes from his hands, snaps them and flings the broken pieces to the ground. Peter gets slowly to his feet and she backs away.

“You’re so cruel! Why are you doing this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“You hate me! You must!” she feels tears stinging her eyes and she turns before he can see them. She does not see his face when he speaks so she can only imagine.

“No…quite the opposite. I don’t have to consider your request and if you were anyone else I wouldn’t. Pick one and I promise I’ll free them.”

“You  _are_  doing this to punish me, I know you are.”

“Oh Wendy bird…there’s nothing to punish. Love potions don’t work on me, I’ve tried,” he admits and there is just the faintest shake to his voice and in that moment Wendy sees what it must be like for him. He is self-aware and so he must know that he does not feel as she does and some part of him must scream at the loss. Realising that he had tried to remedy himself for her sake sends a spike of love through her and she turns to him. Peter is gone.

“I can’t decide…”


End file.
